Red
by Lena42
Summary: He had frozen after that, breath stopped, heart stopped, everything stopped. All just pausing and hoping that for a brief moment time would stop and her 21st birthday never came around. Two-shot. Rated M for suggestive themes and language (mainly the second part).
1. Flashback to Red

**Hello, Everybody.**

 **So I wrote this on a crazy 3am high a few days ago and forgot everything about it the next day (well technically the same) when I woke up. Its kind of dark, a little depressing and made me slightly concerned for myself... Ah well. I have plenty of others reasons to be concerned for myself.**

 **So this is going to be a two part, and I am currently in the middle of writing the second part so hopefully it'll be up in a couple days, hopefully. Exams are coming up so I might get a little swamped but I'll try my best.**

 **Sorry If this sucks balls or if there is spelling mistakes.**

 ***All rights and characters and all that shit belong to the brilliant Cassandra Clare***

 **(Shadowhunters on Netflix in 5 days! I live in Northern Ireland so I can't see it on TV. Cry.)**

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Red.

Everywhere he looked, there it was. Red.

Red curtains. Red doors. Red walls. Hell, even a little red dot would appear just as he started thinking he could move on. He could do this – life – without her. And then he'd see that stupid, bright color that just demanded his attention and any hope he ever had of getting over her came crashing down like waves on a beach side home during a freak storm.

Jace used to think that he was unbreakable. Unattainable. Far out of reach from the rest of the world. Unable to be broken down by even Godzilla's and The Incredible Hulk's mutant child. Jace had spent all the years of his life protecting himself from everything that he thought could possibly tear another piece of him apart. But the one thing that Jace never even imagine being able to get through his walls, was a short redhead with a ratty old sketchbook as her companion.

Jace had never considered that he would ever fall in love. Of course, he had never considered that she'd be able to tear down his walls with just a small smile sent in his general direction without even a clue about what she was doing to him either. So he shouldn't have been that surprised when he figured out that that little thump in his chest, that little rush of adrenaline, that wave that came over him whenever he would touch her soft and pale and surprisingly warm skin, was love.

And for a while, he gave into it. He gave into that rush, that wave, and floated with it, letting himself drown in it. And then he found out, that after countless nights lying texting each other, causing trouble at cafes, and basically doing everything and nothing together, that she had drowned it too. That she had let herself go, let herself drown in it all. That she loved him too.

If you counted the months that they were officially dating, it would be a good solid two.

If you counted all the months before that, it would be around 8 and a half.

But it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

She had invited him over for dinner that night. He came into her apartment, not bothering to knock since he had practically lived there ever since they started dating. He had come up behind her while she was setting the table and wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder and a simple rose that he had picked up one the way over in his hand. She had laughed and leaned back into him, thanking him and taking the rose. They had stood like that for a while, lost in each other's presence, until the oven timer had went off. They had talked animatedly throughout the dinner, and Jace could tell there was something weighing on her shoulders, something on the tip of her tongue but he didn't press her for it. He knew that if he did, she would refrain from telling him until she had decided he was allowed to know. So he carried on until she decided to tell him, and she had been so awkward about it. Sitting him on the couch, telling him to remember how much she loved him.

"Baby, you're scaring me." He had told her. "What's going on?" Tears glistened her eyes.

"I-I, I never told you this before, actually I've never brought him up before to anyone," She had hiccuped. She paused for a while and Jace wondered if she was done.

"Who?" He had her asked gently, his voice soft because he didn't want to push her. She looked up at him, tears making her eyes gleam in the dark candlelit apartment, saw his worry and fear and concern, and this beautiful woman smiled. And he could tell it was just to reassure him.

"My father."

She had never mentioned him before. Jace had never pushed. He just assumed it was a bad daddy-daughter relationship that she'd rather forget.

He never knew how right he was.

Apparently, she – his beautiful, gorgeous, kind, caring, reckless girl – had struck a deal with her father. He would leave her mother, Jocelyn alone. He would leave her step-dad, Luke alone. He would stop trying to destroy the new life they had built together and stop trying to kill them if she – the only girl in the world that he could ever imagine waking up to every morning – came the day she turned 21 and sacrificed everything she had and everything she was to be her father's servant and her brother's – who he never knew existed – toy to play with, in whatever way he wanted. And her 21st birthday was in two days' time.

He had frozen after that, breath stopped, heart stopped, everything stopped. All just pausing and hoping that for a brief moment time would stop and her 21st birthday never came around. Hoping that this was just a dream. Hoping and hoping and hoping that there was no way, no way that he was going to lose her. Begging her to stop joking around, begging her to say it wasn't true, begging her not to leave him like this.

But hope, after all, is delusional.

And he cried.

For the first time in years, he cried. And she held him. She held him and told him that she loved him and that she had tried so hard not to. Tried so hard to keep everyone away, so when the day came she wouldn't have to worry that there were people out there feeling the same pain and the same sense of loss she did, but Jace had just come barging through and brought Alec and Isabelle and Magnus and Simon with him and she couldn't help loving each and every one of them.

She couldn't help loving him.

God knows how long he cried for. It felt like a year. It was heart wrenching and when he was done every muscle of him ached from the sobs that wracked through him.

They had laid together, limbs tangled and faces bearing tear tracks, and when morning came and his alarm went off, he turned it off. When his brother called, he ignored it. She had ended up getting up after the tenth time that either of his siblings had called and told them that Jace was fine, she was fine, and everything was fine.

Lies.

Then he had moved with such urgency, such power that she had jumped out of fright. He began listing ways to get her out of this, but she just sat on the couch and watched him pace back and forth, watched him bring out his master strategist side with lifeless eyes and a sad smile. He had fallen to his knees in front of her and begged her not to do this. He told her he couldn't live without her. Jace, the man that had spent his whole life making sure that he never needed anyone else to live, had become dependent on the endless amounts of love that came pouring out of this small girl who could barely handle herself against a tiny spider in the kitchen sink.

He begged her, pleaded with her with old memories. The happy ones, the sad ones, the angry ones.

He pleaded with her with their friends and family and the plans they had made for the future.

And all she did was shake her head and say:

"We can't stop this, Jace. We can't stop them. I want to, God I want to so much, for you and for everyone, but I can't. I can't stop this, nobody can. For these past few months, I've been counting the days until I had to say goodbye. I've been putting off this moment for all this time, putting off telling you and putting off this. But I can't anymore. And I don't want to spend the last day we have together in grief. I want just you and me, here and now. I want to make sure that when I go there, to _them,_ that everybody out here is okay. And I want to make sure that before I go I know that you'll remember me, and think about me, but move on and build a life. Be happy. For me. Do this, for me."

He wanted to protest, to scream at her for giving up so easily and leaving him like this and for making the goddamn deal in the first place, but she had leaned down and connected their lips and Jace couldn't bring himself to break it to yell at her because he knew, beneath the denial and anger, that this could be the last time he could touch her and hold her and taste her. Granted, she was shaking and tasted like salty tears but he didn't care.

So he kissed her. He kissed her till he couldn't breathe anymore and loved her till he fell from exhaustion and even then, he wouldn't let go.

"You can't tell them."

It'd been hours since either of them spoke, they had just laid there and reveled in each other's arms, so when her voice came out, tiny and croaked, he wasn't completely positive that she had actually said it. Not until he saw her bright emerald eyes looking into his, stubborn and loving, and expecting an answer. And when she didn't receive one, she continued.

"You can't tell Isabelle or Simon or Alec or Magnus or anyone. Even my mother. They can't know about this."

They fought again. He said he couldn't keep this to himself. She said she couldn't handle everyone knowing how weak she was being. She said it was safer if they didn't know. They argued and argued and argued and argued until finally Jace relented. Not because he agreed with it, which he made extremely clear to her, but because he didn't want her to leave knowing the last thing they ever done was fight. Actually he didn't want her to leave, period.

They carried on the day together. Watching movies and shows, debating who the best Doctor was in the whole history of Doctor Who, just spending the day together. Never leaving the other's side for too long and always – in some way or another – touching.

Holding.

Tight.

Because the weight of what was about to go down, the weight of helplessness and fear never left them. No matter what.

And now, over a year later, he sat at the head of a big table with a stupid party hat on with everybody singing happy birthday around him. His foster parents had made it, which they hadn't in three years – shortly after they had gotten divorced, and were now able to tolerate the other so much that they could even sit across from each other and chat civilly. His niece and nephew, Max Lightwood-Bane and Lydia Lewis, play together in a small children's area closely next to the table while Izzy watched over them, a perfectly manicured hand resting on her ever-so-slightly protruding stomach as she was 4 months pregnant. His younger foster brother, Max Lightwood, had brought his first girlfriend who was beautiful and funny and light years out of his league. And what was he doing in this time of happiness and hope? What was he doing on the day that celebrated the day the world was gifted with the great and almighty Jace Herondale?

He was staring at a goddamn red candle sitting atop the chocolate cake wondering where on earth he had made the Lord and God and the angels despise him.

He had told her friends and family that she had to go away. That she would miss them all and that she loved them. Which was all true. He just didn't tell them about the bits lying in the dark, the secrets that tore him apart every night when he went to bed and attempted to sleep. Because he promised not to. It had been over a year since and he was still so broken, so torn. He often wondered what was wrong with him. Wasn't the pain supposed to fade? Wasn't it supposed to go away? Wasn't it supposed to leave him alone so he could do what she asked and move on?

"Happy Birthday to you." Everybody finished off happily, snapping him out of his reverie. He smiled gratefully up at his family, and blew across the candles, watching how they faded to smoke and the red candle, which was half burnt now. His family came forward and hugged him, gave him presents which he thanked them appreciatively for and acted as though he wasn't bleeding out on the inside from a wound that refused to heal.

Then Isabelle gasped. Loud. Everybody's head snapped to her and asked her what was wrong. Simon, Alec and Jace were all by her side immediately, worrying over her and fearing the tears in her eyes, now having discarded the torturous hats. She didn't say a word, but pointed behind Jace, towards the entrance of the small café his family rents out for every birthday. He noticed everyone else was staring at the door too, eyes wide and unbelieving, so he turned, unable to resist the urge to know what had happened.

And he stopped breathing.

His golden eyes were probably the size of the moon.

"I don't have any real gifts with me," The figure – who stood in half in the shadows and half out – said and a small, frail and pale hand stretched itself out and revealed a ring. A ring that he grew up with. A ring he had brought with him everywhere he went. A ring he gave to _her_ , "But I was hoping this would be okay."

His eyes traveled up her. Up her long legs, clad in ripped jeans that didn't seem to be ripped for the purpose of fashion considering the mud coating them. Up her torso, covered in a black sports jacket that looked as though it had seen better days. And finally, to her gorgeous face, that was dusted with freckles and was soft and covered in dirt and a small, awkward smile gracing her lips.

 _Clary Fray._

Simon was the first to react, rushing forward and hugging her tightly, and everybody followed soon after. There was the exchange of polite conversation and tears and laughs.

But Jace wasn't in any of it.

He was still frozen to the same spot he was standing in when he saw her. His jaw had gone slack. He couldn't feel anything. And he was pretty sure he hadn't blinked in a long time. And to be completely honest he was scared to. He was scared in case he blinked and this was all gone and she was gone and he was still sitting at that stupid table with that godforsaken hat.

And then he blinked.

And she was walking toward him.

Her mouth opened as though she was going to say something but all his senses came back at once and he dove forward, pulling her into him and did the only thing he could think and needed to do, he pressed his lips to hers, so only a surprised gasp came out. She still tasted the same, although it was dulled down he could still taste that underlying essence of something he could never quite place but something that was so her that he never thought twice on it.

When they broke apart she stared up at him with wide eyes and shaky breaths. He let go of her suddenly, nearly causing the small girl – who had lost a considerable amount of weight since he last saw her – to tumble back into the table.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Are you okay? What happened to you? How are you here? Please tell me you're okay. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorr – " This time he was the one cut off, as she had jumped forward and pulled him back down to her. He was aware that his family was still here and watching but he didn't have it in him to care. All he could do, was kiss her back.

So he did.

Jace wrapped his arms around her tiny form, lifted her in the air as he spun her, and kissed her.

And this time, when they broke apart, he kept his arms around her and his forehead on hers.

"I'm alright, you big doof."

He didn't realize that he was crying until she reached up and swiped her thumb across his cheek. He buried his head into her neck and inhaled deeply breathing in everything, the faint strawberry and raspberry mix, the strong scent of mud and sweat, just her.

"How?" He croaked. Holding her tighter against his own shaking form. She had told him there was no way to stop them. She had told him it was impossible. And here she was, real, stroking his hair, wrapping him in her warmth and love that he had missed so goddamn much.

"Doesn't matter." She whispered, her breath fanning across his skin, rustling the slight curls in his hair that even now, when he was 23, refused to stop, "Jace," She whispered, and this time he could hear the pain in her voice, the urgency, the desperateness of her tone and he noticed that he was not the one shaking.

"Clary?"

Jace pulled back slowly, gripped her arms with both his hands and looked at her, _really_ looked at her this time. Her skin was sickly pale, her face so hollow you could see her bones, her lips cracked, and it felt like he was holding a skeleton against him. Her eyes held tears and pain, and the lids of them falling slowly and her legs giving out.

"Clary!"

He caught her as she started falling and rested her gently across his lap. People rushed to his side, gasps and shrieks and calls for help filled the air around him but he wasn't listening. He shook her and said her name over and over and over again but she remained still in his arms. Unmoving.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Clary, come on, come back to me, open those pretty little eyes of yours for me. Come on, baby, don't leave now." He continued mumbling. Alec tried to pull him back when the paramedics came and pulled her away from him. He was terrified, so terrified that all his common sense flew right out the window and the only thing he could think of to do was hold on tight and never let go. He cried out for her, and it took Alec, Magnus, Simon and Max combined to tear him away from her and let the paramedics take her.

Plans were arranged. Isabelle, Maryse, Max and his girlfriend and Robert would stay at the café and take care of things – the kids, the mess, calling Clary's mother – while the rest of them would go to the hospital.

The hospital.

A place full of the sick and dying and sad.

A place full of death and happiness and sorrow.

A place that always made him sick to the stomach, not from any illness but from the guilt and the pain he felt washing over him every time he set foot in there.

The hospital.

A place that can bring either fear or hope

A place that could destroy a family or bring together a new one.

A place that can either bring the worst or the best.

And Jace Herondale had a funny feeling that it wouldn't be the latter.

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 **Review please!**


	2. Hospital with Red

**Ok so it took a little longer than I thought I would. Not going to make excuses, mainly cause I don't have any.**

 **Sorry. About the wait and if it sucks, which I'm pretty sure it does.**

 **But anyway here you go. Red, take 2. Action!**

 **(Do not own any characters or anything, all for Cassie Clare.)**

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Red.

Everywhere he looked, there it was. Red.

Red handbags. Red lipstick. Red covers on magazines.

But it was different this time.

It wasn't as though it had drastically changed and he suddenly loved seeing the colour red everywhere he looked. It was still painful, just a different kind of pain. It was still helplessness, but a different kind of helplessness. Before, it was like seeing a homeless man on the street beaten and bruised and begging for money for the little girl beside him and not having a dime in your pocket. Now, it was like seeing someone who loved get poisoned in front of you, and wanting and needing to help but not _knowing_ how to. It was like knowing your best friend in the whole entire world was being abused at home but not _knowing_ how to save them.

Before, it was not having a chance to.

Now, it was not knowing how to.

And it was killing him inside.

Not slowly. Not painfully.

But quickly and numbingly. And somehow, Jace found that worse than the actual pain itself. Because he knew it was there hiding somewhere in the corner he just couldn't feel it. He would feel better if he could feel it, if that makes any sense.

Simon sat in one of the stiff dark blue chairs in the waiting room, elbows on knees and hands in hair. Magnus and Alec stood by the wall whispering gently to each other with grief-stricken expressions as the couple comforted each other. Jace, on the other hand, switched regularly between sitting on the floor, pacing the area in front of the receptionist's – who kept sending Jace flirty glances and biting her lip which he found widely inappropriate – desk and trying to distract himself by flipping through several of the out-of-date magazines lying on the pale blue table.

Currently he was pacing and trying his best to ignore the receptionist's obvious attempt at flirting with him without actually talking. He hated waiting. Growing up, he never had to wait for anything in his life. Due to his natural looks and charisma, plus the fact that his foster parents were highly respected and had the privilege of getting everything they wanted fast-racked, he never had to wait for anything. Just a flash of a smile and a quick mention of his name and whatever he asked for was in his hands within seconds. But not this time.

When they had arrived no one would tell them anything about her because they weren't family. In their eyes anyway. In Jace's eyes, they were all one big family, all loving and hating each other in just the right amounts. But apparently that's not enough for a prissy little receptionist who doesn't seem to realise when it's really not the time or place to try and shove their chest in someone's face.

"Jace?"

The woman's voice was hoarse, as though she had been crying, and was so much like her daughter's that at first Jace mistook it for hers. He turned slowly around to face her, and a pang of pain went through his chest at the sight of the woman who looked so much like his Clary broken and hugging herself as she stared sadly at him.

"Jocelyn." He breathed, relived to see the mother of the love of his life. Maybe she could get something out of these people. She rushed forward and pulled him into a brief hug then doing the same to the rest of them. Jocelyn Graymark was Clary's mother, whom he'd only met twice while they were together and once more after Clary had left. The woman, so much like her daughter, had demanded him to tell her where she was and screamed at him when he said he didn't know. It was technically the truth. He never knew _where_ she was but knew _who_ she was with. God, the things that she must have through the past year. He couldn't bear to think about it.

"What happened?" Jocelyn asked, nestling into the arms of Magnus – a long-time friend of hers. Although she looked tiny and devastated there was still a part of her that was terrifying the living crap out of him.

"She- she showed up at my birthday party and she came over to me and I was hugging her and then she just," He broke off, his throat closing up and tears flooding his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He hadn't cried since the day she left. Jocelyn took in a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes as she leaned into Magnus. He could tell she was trying to stay together and not fall apart by the way she pulled her eyebrows together and the way the edges of her lips pulled down.

"Where's Luke?" Simon asked, his voice just as hoarse as the rest of them and his glasses crooked from the amount of times he removed them to wipe away the tears.

"He's stuck in traffic an-"

"Are you Mrs. Graymark?" They all turned round to face the tall doctor, the exact one that had told him he wasn't allowed to know anything. Jocelyn nodded and moved up to face him.

"Why are doctors always so damn secretive?" Alec ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up completely. Though he often acted cold towards the small girl, everyone knew he cared about her.

The redheaded woman's features were pulled into an angry frown as she glared at the doctor. Jace felt some satisfaction at the man's scared expression, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he wanted somebody else to feel the fear that was running through him, and keeping him from being able to do anything without shaking. Maybe it was because the same rage that lay in Jocelyn lay in her daughter and it had been such a long time since he'd seen that. Or maybe he just hoped that if the man was scared enough he would stop shutting Jace out from seeing his Clary.

Jace turned away and moved to distract himself, if he looked at Jocelyn's reactions or expressions he would be able to see how bad it was – and he was already going worst case scenario in his head. He spotted a water cooler beside the seats and walked over, grabbing a small white cup, filling it and proceeding to chug the whole thing down.

It didn't help.

Neither did the second cup.

Or the third.

It didn't help the burning, dry sensation in his throat. It didn't help the heavy feeling in his chest. It just didn't help.

His hands found the edge of the wall and he braced himself against it, breaths coming in sharp and short as his eyes fluttered closed. Jace was never scared of anything. He was the strong one, the brave one, the fearless one. And he wasn't scared now.

He was fucking terrified.

He hadn't seen her in a year but knew that she wasn't alright, safe or happy. He knew nothing about what was happening with her. He knew nothing about how she was being treated. When Jace saw her, she was thin and her face was hollow, breaths short and skin sickly pale.

How could the most rational and health-conscious person he'd ever known become like that within a year?

Granted, she wasn't that conscious of her health. She never passed up a chance at eating junk food or having cake for breakfast but she would never ever let herself… wither away like that. Not ever.

So who did?

"Jace?" Jocelyn's voice rang through his ears and her small hand laid on his shoulder, his eyes popped open to meet hers and his breathing – which he was not aware had stopped – came back in a rush. Jocelyn smiled slightly at him and took his hand, leading him away from his friends who sent him hopeful smiles and away from the doctor whose jaw was clenched and eyes narrowed but mouth shut.

"Where are we going?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

They stopped in front of a large white door, the numbers 557 printed onto it, and he gulped.

Jocelyn smiled gently, lovingly at him and said with tears in her green eyes, "To her."

Before he knew it, the door was open.

Before he knew it, he was beside her and touching her, feeling the cold skin beneath her and brushing the soft and pale skin of her face.

Before he knew it, he was running out the door and running away from the hospital. Away from her and the pain and the cold.

Just Away.

Two months.

Two months he had stayed away.

Two months he spent drowning in his own sorrow.

He couldn't see her like that. Hooked up to wires and that godawful oxygen mask on her face, her chest barely rising and falling. He just couldn't.

So he wouldn't.

Isabelle and Alec, of course, kept coming by his apartment and giving him updates on how she was doing, that she woke up last week. That she was doing better. That she was asking about him.

His reply was always the same.

"Good." "She deserves it."

He could tell, obviously, that Isabelle and Alec were getting frustrated with him and his refusal to visit her. They probably thought he didn't care anymore but they just didn't understand. He did care – more than he probably should've – and that was the reason he wouldn't see her. The fact that he cared was the only thing stopping him from pushing himself off of the sofa, on which he'd become a permanent resident, and dragging his sorry ass to the hospital.

One of those soaps that Jace always complained about was playing on the TV, Hollyoaks or something. He had the TV playing on the same channel for days now and it probably wasn't going to change soon. Hell, he didn't even have the energy to shave let alone change the channel.

A knock sounded through the apartment. It was a quiet knock, as though it was testing the waters, and Jace was almost sure he imagined it. When it sounded again, it was more sure and confident, and this time Jace knew it was real.

But he didn't answer.

He didn't have the energy for his sibling's shit today. They'd just leave eventually. They did yesterday. And the day before.

He ignored the next few knocks and waited until it all fell silent. One part of him was a tad disappointed that they had given up so easy on trying to get to him but another part of him scolded himself, telling him he couldn't have it all. He tossed the now empty bottle on the floor, ignoring the slight twinge of desire to clean it and the rest of bottles off the floor and in the bin, and reached for another one when it sounded again, along with a voice. But this time it was different. This time it made Jace pause and think. This time it made him remember.

This time it made him hurt.

 _Knock._

"Open the door, Jace." The voice, low and tired and pleading, enticed a rush of shaky breaths to be let out in a lame attempt to keep from his eyes flooding, "Please. I just want to talk, Jace."

He couldn't blink.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't _move._

All he could think was her.

 _Clary._

After a few more moments of silence, she began talking again. This time more exasperated than before.

Fine. Be that way. But I'm still going to talk, you know? And if you want me to stop then you'll just have to come out here and tell me yourself, okay?" Silence met her. "Right. Forgot that you're going all silent treatment on me. Anyway, where do I start?"

Jace, finally able to move, stood and walked to the door but for the life of him couldn't find the courage to actually open it and face her. So he leant against the door, closed his eyes and listened. Just listened.

"Okay so I left while you were asleep, mainly because I knew you wouldn't let me leave if I didn't. You were always like that, even if I was going to be back in an hour you wouldn't let me leave. I really missed that, you know. It got so lonely over there, with _them._ I'm not going to go into the details – especially standing outside in hall and I'm not even sure you're listening to me right now, you have a right not to – but yeah it got pretty nasty. And the only thing that kept me going, from not just killing myself then and there, were memories. Of Simon. Mom. Magnus, Izzy, Alec." She paused her a long while before, "You."

He let out a shaky breath as his hand wraps around the door knob. But something deep inside wouldn't let him. It was as though the something was scared that he would open the door and she wouldn't be there and he would have just imagined this whole thing.

Jace wasn't sure if he could live with that.

"Yeah, then one day, there was a giant raid. Cops everywhere. They arrested everyone, whether they were a prisoner or a guard or one of the big guys. Showed no mercy. Me and a few other people got away, just barely. But the police wanted everyone who ever stepped foot in that goddamned house. They claimed it was because they need to gather evidence on Jonathon and Valentine and the rest of them but we didn't go for it. Well, most of us. There was this one girl, Beth, she insisted they would keep us safe and all that shit. We tried to convince her not to, but she went ahead anyway." Her voice was angry and dark now, and the further she descended into her story the more furious her tone grew. But the next time she spoke it was quiet, grieving almost and Jace idly wondered how long it has been since this happened.

"She was found dead two days later."

Jace sucked in a breath, and laid his forehead against the wooden door. He could almost feel her presence in front of him, almost as if there was no door between them. God knows how he wished the door wasn't between them.

 _I bet whoever invented the door is laughing in his grave at me._

"We split up after that, I'm not exactly sure where the others got to or if they're alive but I hope they are. They deserve it. I wasn't able to get a bus or train or anything cause then I'd be caught. I just had to make it back here, home, then they wouldn't be able to touch me. I'm not sure why or how but I don't really care at the moment. When I got here, I saw the date and, I don't know, I just couldn't help myself." There was a long pause then, "Jace…" Desperation. Pleading. Another long break between speaking. "Ok. If you don't want to talk to me or see me, I get it. Completely. I'll leave you alone if you want me to. You know where I'll be." He did. Her apartment. Despite her not living there for a year, Jace had always kept it, never letting the landlord sell it to a new tenant. Call it creepy or sad, but Jace had some small tiny bit of hope left in him that she would come back.

And he was right.

And he was letting her leave.

 _Again._

A sigh, then footsteps alerted him to her retreat and caused an alarm to go off in his head.

 _No._

 _No._

 _No._

 _Not again._

His body finally jumped into action, adrenaline coursing through each and every single cell in his body. He whipped open the door, nearly whacking himself in the face, and ran out – barefoot and dishevelled – scanning the corridor for that damn brilliant Red colour that he loved so much. He saw her turn the corner towards the stairs, and sprinted. He nearly slipped on the slightly damp floors and pyjama bottoms that were way too big for him several times but never stopped until he reached her.

Clary turned, wide-eyed and startled. "Jace, What are you –"

He took her in his arms and buried his face into the crook of her neck, cutting off whatever she had to say. She stood stiff and shocked.

"Please." He begged, "Please don't go." Jace was completely aware that he sounded like a four year old who didn't want to leave the park but he could bring himself to care. She was here in his arms, so close to walking away. Nothing else mattered to him anymore.

The redhead relaxed into him, wrapping herself arranged his torso as he squeezed tighter. "Okay. But as long as you take a shower or something. You stink as bad as Simon after two minutes of running."

He smiled.

 _Same old Clary._

* * *

 **Yeah. Like I said, sucks. But oh well.**

 **Review if ya feel like it.**


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